A Broken Heart
by Jadeah
Summary: Ezio turns up at Leonardo's terribly injuried, but more worryingly in shock of something. But Leonardo is willing to find out what.
1. Chapter 1

There was a knock on the door, and Leonardo looked up from his work. With a few quick steps, he came to the entrance, where he discovered Ezio. Golden eyes dull, and body battered and heavily abused. The artist just stared with mouth agate for a long few moments, then lead his friend inside.

"Ezio, what happened?" He guided him to sit on the stool so he could see the injuries. "_Dios mio, assomiglia tu fossi colpita da __un cavallo_."

The assassin didn't answer, only stared down at the floor blankly. Shock painted on his face. Leonardo pulled his hood down to see if there was anymore hidden by it. And was started by the trail of blood down his neck from somewhere behind his ear! As he picked up a cloth and touched it to the wounded area, Ezio's breath hitched a moment, his hands curling into fists and jaw tightening. He pulled his head away with closed eyes.

"Please, _amico mio_, tell me what happened." Leonardo asked in a gentle voice as he dabbed the damp cloth back onto the wound again.

Ezio shook his head, almost like a guilty child who was afraid of punishment.

Leonardo felt his heart twist in knots, just seeing him like this was horrible. "What happened, Ezio?"

Ezio whispered something, far too quiet for him to hear. Then pulled away from the cloth again.

"What's wrong, please tell me." Leonardo asked in the softest of mannors.

With that, Ezio pulled away, and stood up, as if he'd changed his mind about coming to the workshop. Though he didn't go far, only making it up the first few steps before his knees buckled under his weight, and he collapsed. Landing on the stone floor with a dredded _thud_!

"Ezio!" Leonardo was by his side in seconds, but he was a little too late, Ezio had closed his eyes and passed out. So as best as he could, he picked up the heavier man and brought him to the couch, pulling off the armor in order to get to the wounds that were bleeding through his usually white robes. And started to treat the gashes and cuts that were all in array across his body. He'd question about what had happened after he recovered from the shock.


	2. Chapter 2

_The sound of swords clashing brought screams behind him. Screams from frightened children. And if he didn't stop the guards, they'd be rounded up to be killed! He'd heard too much of the conversation between the guards to know just that. It was some example, theses were the kids of those who tried fight the Borgia! So there was more than one reason why he was doing this, but souly because they shouldn't die so young._

_"You don't know what you're doing!" He sneered at the guard who had locked swords with him._

_Of course, he was answered with a kick to the stomach and a shove backwards. Now he was on the ground as a brute came towards him, axe ready to end him. In the nick of time, he rolled out of the way and the axe smashed onto cobberstone, rattling._

_As he was about to run back to the children, he heard a click and looked back, of course, there stood a musketeer. And another and another. Until there was enough to make swiss cheese out of him in one round should he move! The other guard chuckled, "Just give up, Assassino. We've got you outnumbered."_

_Though he was too stubborn to admit that. He quietly whistled a few times, then next thing any of them knew, his recruits were jumping from the church roof and onto guards! The musketeers' all were trying to fire at them, giving him the chance to stab a few._

_BAM!_

_He looked over to the wall, there laid one of his recruits! One of his first, whome he knew very well. And there was a scream from one of the children, a young boy was shot in the leg and a guard was getting ready finish him._

_"What's it going to be? You're precious recruits? Or the little children?" He had a sickly smile. Like he knew exactly what he'd choose. At the same time, brutes were holding down his other recruits, and the musketeers were all aimed at the children! It was a test._

_He looked to his recruits, and one shouted, "Mistro! Don't worry about us! We'll be fine!"_

_The children were all to paralized with fear to move. His choose should have been obvious, all too obvious._

_He casted the recruits an apologetic look, even though they already knew what was about to happen. Then he charged at the musketeers, managing to stab a couple before the air filled with gunfire and screaming! He wasn't given the chance to see it all unfold before a brute started to beat at him, chopping down at him with his axe and finally butting the end behind his ear!_

_Now on the ground with a small pool of his own blood around him, he was able to see the aftermath as the guards walked away. There laid eight noble recruits, and nearby him was twelve young children, all dead. His body suddenly felt hollow, like his insides were all pooling around him with his blood. It was all his fault. Completely his fault._

* * *

><p>Leonardo was wrapping up one of the wounds as Ezio turned his head away and moved his forearm up to his face. Through his arm, he could hear a muffled sob. With care, and causion, his wrapped an arm aorund him, trying to comfort him. Though it did very little.<p>

"Ezio, what happened?" Leonardo asked again, not expecting him to answer.

He could feel Ezio grow ridged in his hold, then move his arm from his eyes a moment. They were reddened and his cheeks strewn with tears. He barely gave Leonardo any look as he murmered, "I couldn't save them."

Leonardo blinked, "Save who?"

Ezio then pulled away, not answering the last question. Whatever did happen, it was probably devastating if he was this reluctant to speak of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Leonardo watched Ezio sit almost like a statue. How many times had he tried to get him to sit still? A good dozen times at the least. But now that he was, he wasn't in the mood to even stetch it, he only wanted to know what happened. But Ezio's reluctence to tell him was getting more and more frustrating.

"Ezio, I won't think of you any differently. No matter how bad it is. What happened?"

The assassin shook his head, still staring down at his lap. He had been stripped of his robes and was down to the trousers and boots, and his torso had bandages wrapped up over the dozen wounds. It was almost pathetic, he was depressed over something, he wouldn't tell his best friend, and so Leonardo couldn't do anything to help him.

With a defeated sigh, he turned to the door, "I'll be back, _amico_ _mio_." He had a way to figure this out.

* * *

><p>"No, I'm not sure exactly what happened, or where he ran off to." Leonardo watched Machiavelli pace near the fence while he stood behind him. The man had to of known something. He had to.<p>

The artist asked again, "But do you know anything about what happened?"

Machiavelli looked over to him and shook his head, "All that I'm sure of is that he failed in a rescue. There were a few children of some rebels, he insisted on releasing them." He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "One of the recruits, Annette, returned in horrible shape. I tried to ask her what happened, but she passed out. And from seeing what was left, the children were dead and most of the recruits."

Leonardo nodded his understanding to this. "Could I maybe talk to Annette?"

Once again, the writer shook his head. "No, the doctor wanted her to rest. Maybe another time." It was then a moment later that clear curiousity played on his face, "Why are you asking?"

With a short breath he knew that he'd have to admit to knowing where Ezio was. "He came to my workshop looking like he was run over by a couple dozen horses. But he wouldn't tell me what happened."

This made the writer stare with wide eyes, "He was with you?" It was then he stopped pacing, Leonardo nodded. "Then please, can I come and get him? I'll be able to straighten everything out at the hideout."


	4. Chapter 4

Leonardo came to the door to his hideout, Machiavelli behind him. "I left him so I could find you," The artist explained again. "He should be sitting somewhere."

He opened the door, and imidiantly felt something wrong. He didn't see Ezio anywhere, he couldn't hear him either. No sign of him at all. The stool he'd left him on was abdandoned. Slowly, Leonardo stepped down to the floor as he looked around the entire room.

"Ezio?"

Machiavelli came up beside him. "Where is he?"

"Well if I knew then I'd tell you." Leonardo responded. "I swear, he was here when I left."

The philosopher put a hand on his chin in thought, "There isn't any sign of a struggle. Maybe he had left on his own accord."

With both shock and dissapointment, Leonardo sat down on the chair with his head in his hands. If only he hadn't left him, then he'd probably still be here. Finally he stood up, "We have to search for him."

Nodding his agreement, Machiavelli replied calmly, "I'm sure Ezio will come back, or we'll find him." As he spoke, rain began to fall outside.

* * *

><p>He found himself walking down the street, it was late at night and the lights casted a warm glow on the puddle strewn cobblestone; as it had rained not long ago. He was soaked, tired, and hollow. Nothing mattered anymore, at least he didn't matter.<p>

Eventually Ezio sat down on a bench, head in his hands as he continued to think back to that one moment. He had made a stupid choice, and more lives suffered because of it. It was completely his fault. He stared down at one of the puddles, seeing the faces of those lost because of him.

The image was distorted as a hoove stepped down into the puddle, sending silvery droplets up. Ezio pulled his gaze up to find himself staring eye to eye with a dark cloaked man. His face in shadows from a beaked hood. But frightning enough, he could reconize what was visable as himself! He was staring at himself darkly dress and slightly bloodstained on a dark horse! The light darkening to a crimson to match it!

He shook his head and looked back to see nothing more but the empty, puddle laiden street still bathed in the comforting flame glow. He must be crazy enough to see things. He had to of been insane.

Though Ezio wasn't much the person to be absorbed in religion, well he wasn't religious at all, but there was still a growing fear that that was what he was turning into. Regardless, going to a priest wasn't an option! Not in a million years! Even if they claim that it'll bring him peace of mind, he wasn't going to go to one.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

He looked up to find himself looking up at a younger man, nose split midway by a long scar and gray eyes bright. He was wearing a scarf aorund his neck and wearing more tattered clothes, proving that he wasn't a noble.

Ezio nodded slowly.

"What's wrong?" The nameless man asked him.

The assassin couldn't begin to explain it. "It's complicated."

A hand fell on his shoulder. "_Signore_, you could tell me." The man assured. Then added softly, "I won't judge you."

With a sigh, Ezio answered, "I couldn't save the people I had to. And I let them all down."

The man casted him a soft smile, as if he understood what he meant. "You were trying to do what you thought was best."

"But it was for nothing, everyone suffered because of my mistake." Ezio responded.

"No, it wasn't your fault at all." The man told him calmly. "It never was."

Ezio couldn't help but feel slightly assured, like maybe the guy was right.

"Besides, your instentions were good."

That was true. But a question became to peak in. "Why are you bothering talking to me?"

The hand came off and Ezio met the man's eyes as his question was answered with a calm, "Some things are better without an answer, _Maestro_." Then he turned and walked away, vanishing away from Ezio's sight.

The assassin sat there for a long few minutes thinking about what that random person had told him, and that last word stuck to his mind. Then he realized something, that man looked just like one of his recruits!


	5. Chapter 5

Annette laid on her bed, staring out the window by her bedside. Outside, an eagle flew in large circles. She couldn't go out to leap from the perch and feel like she was flying. Not with her phycical state. She was battered and gashed all over. The memory of how she had become this way still stuck to her mind.

There was a knock on the door, and she pulled herself painfully to a sit. "Come in!"

To her surprise, Ezio opened the door and stepped inside. She hadn't seen him since the failed mission!

"_Maestro_? Where have you been?" She asked. "Machiavelli could have sworn you were dead!"

Ezio didn't answer right away, he seemed distant. "I took a visit to Leonardo's workshop. I cannot believe that at least one of my recruits survived."

She pulled her sore legs up and over the side of the bed in order for her to stand. "No, I got away. But why did you not come back here?"

"I did not know what everyone would say to me knowing that I caused children to die." Ezio answered bluntly.

She sighed, clearly seeming to understand this. "Alright. I get it. _Ser_ Machiavelli left to look for you after Signore da Vinci had come and told him you were with him."

"He was searching for me?" Ezio seemed slightly surprised, then worried. "Did he mention at all of what he was going to tell me?"

"I do not know, only that he was looking for you." She answered.

"Annette, I am sorry. Truely." Ezio suddenly said. "What happened to you, it is my fault." His gaze was on the bloody gause wrapped around her shoulder and arm.

"I will be fine. And it wasn't your fault, it probably would have happened regardless." Annette could only assure.

"I should not have called for you, you and everyone else." He spoke, voice brought to a near whisper. "Because I had given them the perfect opprotunity to kill two birds with one stone by doing so."

That wasn't right. Was it? She was about to correct him when he suddenly left, opening the window and leaping out! She panicked, not recalling hay every being placed there, until she saw the hay bale he had landed in.

* * *

><p>When he returned to the workshop, he found things eerily quiet. So he was careful and slightly causious with opening the door. No one was inside, the building abandon. Though there wasn't a sign of a struggle, he could tell that there was also no forced entry. He and Machiavelli were searching for him. Just like Annetta had said.<p>

"Leonardo? _Amico mio_? _Sei qui_?" He called as he stepped inside.

No answer.

It only confirmed what Annetta told him. But were they safe? Did the guards find them and take them? Did he just endanger them by leaving? He suddenly felt sick with the thought of finding his closest friend dead on the ground. Though he ignored the dizzy spell that washed over him as he left the workshop to find them.

_No... Not Leonardo. Those bastardi will not hurt him._

**Yeah, didn't update this in a while, felt like I should. So here you go! Another chapter will be up shortly!**


End file.
